And the Truth About Trust
by lil smiles
Summary: "I trust ya, Cassie. I have for a while. The funny thing is, I don't know if I can trust myself around you anymore." Cassandra/Jacob. ONESHOT.


**A/N: I adore the dynamic between Cassandra and Jacob (Team Synestorian), their friendship over a potential romance, but the characters had other plans as I was writing this fic. Reviews are always much appreciated. And if you catch the reference I threw in at the end, let's be friends ;) One last thing... Season 3. Ugh. I hope we survive.  
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 **Disclaimer: I own nothing. Take it up with Rogers, Devlin, and co.**

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 **And the Truth About Trust**

"Hey… Hey! What the heck was that about?"

"Just forget it."

Stone quickens his pace as he proceeds deeper into the Library with an undeterred Cassandra hot on his heels.

"I'm going to keep following you until you tell me!" she yells.

He stops so fast in his tracks that she almost collides into him. Catching herself, she glares at his back still towards her. She doesn't exactly remember what started this particular argument. Their relationship, though rocky at first, has grown leaps and bounds in the short amount of time they've known each other. Then, it dawns on her.

"You still don't trust me."

The words leave her mouth before she could stop herself, words that are all too familiar. However this time, she doesn't feel the usual sting of disappointment. Instead, it's replaced by resentment.

"You know what? Screw you!" she snaps. "I have done everything, everything I could to earn back your trust. And yeah, I messed up. _Once_. But you can't hold that against me forever."

"You're right."

"I don't have to prove myself to you," she barrels forward. "Not to you, or anyone else for tha… I-I'm sorry, what did you say?"

He finally turns to face her. Her heart's pounding so loudly in her ears she can barely hear his response.

"I said you're right," he repeats.

"Oh. Okay."

She frowns as he glances away, somewhat embarrassed.

"I, uh, I thought it would be easier if I… If I could have kept you," he pauses, sighing in frustration. "I tried."

When he meets her gaze, she simply stares at him wide-eyed with confusion.

"I trust ya, Cassie. I have for a while. The funny thing is, I don't know if I can trust myself around you anymore."

For someone who could easily solve complex matrices in seven dimensions, Cassandra finds herself unable to determine which is worse: the deafening silence or the crippling panic that takes a hold of her.

"It's okay," he insists with a nervous laugh. "You don't have to say anything. Probably best if you don't."

He makes it halfway down the corridor by the time she has a chance to stop him. Her palm flush against his chest, her head swimming. He is too close. Two point seven inches close, to be exact.

"Seven," she mutters out loud, trying to focus her thoughts. "Seven is… violet. Six… Six is… Is…"

Before her brain can fully process what is happening, her lips are on his. It only takes him a fraction of a second to reciprocate. All that she can taste and feel, all of her senses, are flooded in a sea of vibrant indigo, and her mind surrenders to a perfect stillness.

"Cassie?"

She blinks and the stillness is gone.

"I know I may be a bit out of practice, but I wasn't that bad was I?"

Although there is a playful tone to his question, she is surprised at how genuinely upset he looks.

"No," she reassures him. "That kiss was perfect."

"Then why are you looking at me like you want to get as far away from me as you can?"

Shutting her eyes, she tries in vain to block out the equations and numbers that are now overwhelming her.

"Brain grape," she murmurs, struggling to keep it together. "I shouldn't have."

Despite her, albeit feeble, attempts to back away from him, he doesn't allow her to get far.

"It always ends bad. You said so yourself."

"Cass…"

"You deserve a future, Jacob. I can't give you one."

She chokes back a strangled sob as he pulls her towards him. Desperately she clings to him, afraid that if she let go, he would disappear.

"I'm not guaranteed a future either," he says, taking a minute to regain his own composure. "None of us are. But I ain't going anywhere."

He brushes his lips against her temple.

"I'm better with you," he whispers.

Trembling, she nestles her cheek into the crook of his neck and is soothed by the warmth of his skin against hers.

"So what now?" she asks shakily.

"Well," he replies. "I was hoping we could make out…"

She smacks him on the shoulder, immediately cutting him off.

"Don't push your luck."

"That really hurt," he whines, earning him a soft giggle.

Their stolen moment together is interrupted by heavy footsteps echoing through the Library. Instinctively, they both take a small step away from each other.

"Oh good," Jenkins exclaims. "You're both here."

Cassandra manages to dry the remaining tears from her eyes just as he reaches them.

"The world needs saving. Again," Jenkins hesitates. "Is everything alright?"

His gaze swings back and forth between the young Librarians. He chooses to ignore the synesthete's soft sniffles and flushed cheeks, then decides to also ignore the historian's protective arm around her.

"Yeah," answers Stone. "We're good."

"Good," Jenkins echoes, unfazed. "Colonel Baird will fill you in on all the details."

"Thanks."

They only make it a few feet away, when he calls out to them.

"Uh, Cassandra? Jacob?"

Turning back around, they both stare expectantly at Jenkins. There's a beat of silence.

"Good luck."

He doesn't elaborate any further, not that he needs to. Beaming, Cassandra accepts Stone's outstretched hand and laces her fingers through his.

"What are you two still standing around here for?" Jenkins demands gruffly. "Quit dillydallying. Go."

The pair exchange knowing glances before making their way to the Annex. Once they are safely out of sight, a small smile settles across Jenkins' face. He is about to return to his workshop when a book tumbles off a shelf, landing directly in his path. Carefully retrieving the misplaced volume off the ground, he flips it over to read the title: _What We Talk About When We Talk About Love_. Shaking his head, he peers up at the vast expanse of the Library's ceiling.

"Subtle!" he shouts at the empty building, yet unable to suppress a grin. "Very subtle."

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 _ **Fin for now.**_


End file.
